The Things We Never Get To Say
by tealgirl713
Summary: Francis decided to tell Arthur he loved him after a particularily bad fight. But then the unthinkable happened. FrUK, Human AU.


**What am I doing?**

**I should be writing my other story, not one-shots.**

**Yet here I am. And here it is.**

**Warning: Character death.**

**Disclaimer: Tealgirl713 does not own Hetalia.**

* * *

Valentine's Day, 2012.

The celebration of love, of lovers themselves. The normally cold air of London in February was filled with new warmth, the kind of warmth that comes from inside the heart, not from the sun. But this feeling did not reach the inside of one taxicab making its way through the streets of London.

The silence in the cab was suffocating. One could have taken a bite out of the tension if they chose to do so. One of the men sitting in the cab, Arthur, averted his eyes from the Frenchman sitting next to him, who had been unsuccessfully trying to get Arthur to speak to him for almost five minutes now.

"Arthur, _mon cher,_-"

"Don't call me that, you perverted tosser!"

Francis smiled sadly to himself. At least he had gotten Arthur to speak to him. Even if it was just Arthur yelling at him.

"Arthur," he tried again, a pleading tone evident in his voice. "Arthur, you must listen to me."

"Why?" the other snapped, turning around sharply to face him. "You've made it clear that you want nothing to do with me anymore. Why should I want to have anything to do with you?"

Francis bit his lip and looked past Arthur and out the window, where the falling rain counteracted the happy atmosphere of the day with a gloomy feeling. He could see the happy people out there, laughing and kissing. Oh, how he wished he could join them. For a moment he wondered why he'd even bothered to chase after Arthur anyway. But then he remembered how it felt every time they were together, every laugh they had shared, every kiss. He remembered how he had fallen in love with Arthur. Of all the partners he'd had over his life, man or woman, none of them made him feel the way Arthur had. And he wasn't about to let him get away.

"I am sorry, Arthur. I truly am."

"Sorry isn't enough!" Arthur yelled. "God, one would think that if you actually cared for me at all then you would have something better to say." Arthur turned back to the window, and Francis swore he could see a tear forming in the corner of his eye. He felt like slamming his head against a wall. Why did this have to happen today, of all days? The day he was finally going to tell Arthur he loved him.

"Arthur, you do not understand. If you would just listen to me, I could tell you-"

"Tell me what? What is so important that you had to bleeding follow me into this taxicab to say? Is it another comment about my eyebrows? My inability to cook? What?"

"Would you please look at me first?" He didn't want to confess his love to the back of his beloved.

Grudgingly, he did so, his eyes coming to rest on Francis's, blue meeting elegant green. But as Francis watched, Arthur's eyes widened, appearing to focus on the window behind him.

Not to be distracted from his confession, Francis grabbed hold of Arthur's hand, and Arthur looked at him with slightly scared eyes.

"Francis, look be-"

"Arthur, _mon cher, _I love you."

And then the car hit.

* * *

Valentine's Day, 2013.

He carried a bouquet of irises in his arms as he walked down the path towards his destination. The crunch his boots made in the freshly fallen snow was the only sound that reached his ears. His scratchy coat wasn't enough to keep him warm, and he shivered as he came closer and closer.

Finally he was there.

He pushed open the ornate gates, the creaking sound they made passing straight through his skin, chilling him to the bone. Tears threatened to fall from his eyes as he knelt down at his final destination, looking upon the words etched in the granite.

_Francis Bonnefoy_

_14-7-1985 to 14-2-2012_

_May you rest in eternal peace_

Arthur laid down the flowers he had been holding and cleared away the snow on the tombstone, before speaking in a low tone, as if he would disturb the silence if he spoke any louder.

"Hello, Francis. I'm sorry I never came to see you before this. But I didn't think I could face you. It was a year ago today you told me you loved me. But then that car had to come and take you away from me, before I could say…"

A tear fell, splashing on top of the stone.

"…I love you, too."

* * *

**I apologize for that. That was not my best writing.**

**Nope. Not at all.**

**Anyway. The idea for this fanfic came to me today in my Pre AP Lit class. We were supposed to develop a setting based on a set of three words/phrases. I chose a taxi, an old enemy, and Valentine's Day.**

**And that was the result.**

**Bonsoir, my good friends.**


End file.
